Posts from the ‘Gratitude’ Category

You may remember that for my 30th birthday, which wasn’t at all scary by the way, Rob and our friend Stuart gave me my domain http://dailymommysurvival.com as a gift. (Thanks again guys!) And that my friends, my readers, followers, and family is where you will find all things good, bad and indifferent in the Land of Lizze. From this point hence, please follow the bouncing ball over to

I watched Glee tonight with Rob. I *heart* Glee! It’s one of, if not my absolute favorite non-cop/criminal related shows. Tonight part of the plot was about Rachel and her search for her birth mother who gave her up for adoption to a gay couple. Only it wasn’t so much Rachel’s search as it was Rachel’s Birth Mother’s desire to know her daughter.

I used to daydream about a reunion like that for us. You would look for me. Then we would be reunited. And have a happy reunion. A happy relationship. Sure, it would be bumpy at first and bumpy at times because all relationships are sometimes. We would be okay though. We would still be family though.

What I don’t understand is; twice now in my life, you’ve pretended you wanted to know me. Twice now you’ve started to get to know me. The second time you went so far as to meet my family. Only to blow me off in the end.

That’s right, twice now you’ve done this to me! What the hell???? What is so wrong with me? Why is it that you said that you would get rid of my other three siblings if that’s what it took to keep me away from you? You blow me off and I don’t bother you. I don’t talk to you. I don’t have anything to do with you once you blow me off. I pretend as if you don’t exist. You are dead to me. I only speak your name to my sister, my husband or my therapist when I’m trying to make sense of your insanity. Something that’s truly pointless to do because really I’m a sane person seeking to make sense of the insane. Although this actually brings me to something I need to speak with you about.

You blew me off. You cut me out of your life over some imagined thing I had done. Not to you, mind you but to Trisha or Charissa – you weren’t sure which. The last thing you said to me on the phone was:

Me: I’m not going to keep defending myself when it doesn’t do any good and all it does is anger you more.

You: I can’t talk to you anymore! I’ll call you back when I’m not so angry!

Then you hung up on me. That was 2 or 3 days before Easter and you still haven’t called me back. Despite the fact that I had called you a few times and you ignored my calls. I had texted you a few times as well – all ignored. The only text you didn’t ignore was the “Happy Easter” text I sent mostly out of some sick sense of guilt because technically you are my “mother” and “I should”. I didn’t expect a response. Imagine my surprise when I received “Same to you”. I guess technically that was the last thing you ever said to me – “Same to you”.

I hate you for that. For getting my hopes up the second time. I fought against it. Especially because I had Rob and Trisha this time. I didn’t have that kind of protection the first time around. But this time, I had the benefit of Rob to back me up and pick me up when I fell – and I did. I also had the benefit of Trisha’s lifetime of experiences with you. Even with all that, I still got my hopes up. Between text messages, your willingness to help with Gavin, the few times you took me to breakfast…Can I just talk about those few times we had breakfast or lunch together?

I was like a star-struck kid. I was terrified of saying the wrong thing or doing the wrong thing. I was sure that if I made one wrong move you would write me off again because I had embarrassed you or because of some other unknown slight. I even opened up to you about this when we were sitting in the Cafeteria at the Children’s Hospital while Emmett John had his ABR. Do you remember what you said? You said that I couldn’t say the wrong thing or make the wrong move. That I was worrying about nothing and I should stop. Yeah, that worked out well for me, didn’t it? You wrote me off in the end anyway.

I’m going out of order here but it’s my letter and I’ll do what I want to. Besides, let’s be honest for a moment. You read Rob’s blog. You don’t read mine. If you did, you wouldn’t be pumping my sister for information about Emmett John after he fell down the stairs because both Rob and I posted updates. But I digress.

The first time around, I admit my hopes were up from Go! There was no way they wouldn’t be. You were my birth mother. I had been searching for you for 4 years! Posting my information on every free Adoption Registry I could find. Doing anything that looked like it might be the slightest bit helpful to an adoptee searching for her birth family. If another adoptee had told me to dance by the light of a silvery moon and you would appear, full of love and thrilled to see me…I’d have done it.

I didn’t have any protection the first time. I had an ex-mother-in-law who didn’t understand why you mattered. And I had an adoptive family who either hated me for hurting my Adopto-Mom or simply hated me because they viewed what I was doing as an attack on the family. Like they weren’t good enough. A few of them were bold enough to vocalize their opinions – painfully so. Most kept their opinions to themselves and just gave me “looks”. Again, like most things in my life, the only one who even tried to understand me, my motivations, my emotions, or anything else was my Auntie Paula.

I’m trying to learn to appreciate the little victories in our lives in the hope that it will help me retain a bit more of my sanity. With that in mind, I present to you

Today’s Little Victory:

A few weeks ago Grandma and Pa-Pa G gave us a pair of really nice, blue goggles to use during Tubby Time. All three of the Boys is “terrified” of water and they completely flip-out if water gets on their faces; forget about the fit they throw if the water gets in their eyes. So we were hoping the goggles would help Tubby Time sound less like we were murdering them and more like, well, bath time. All three have been wearing them around the house to get used to how they feel since Grandma and Pa-Pa G gave them to us.

Today Gavin tried them out in the shower.

Until now his version of “rinsing” his hair was he washed it and then got out of the shower all sudsy; at which point he would use his towel to wipe the soap off of his hair. For a long time Rob and I couldn’t figure out how his hair smelled clean but looked dirtier than when he’d gotten in the shower in the first place. Turns out he was terrified of getting soap and water in his eyes.

For today, our Little Victory is that the goggles worked and Gavin actually rinsed his hair and his head, face and neck.

Thank you.
Thank you for being you.
Thank you for loving me.
Thank you for everything you did for me.
Thank you for everything you gave up for me.
Thank you for not killing me – even though you had every right to do so more times than either one of us can count. lol
Thank you for supporting me.
Thank you for every time you protected me.
Thank you. I never said it enough back then. And now I doubt I say it enough. So thank you Mommy. I love you.

(This is a blog from my old MySpace Blog. Elliott Richard was only a few months old and changes in my daily duties along with the crazy, raging hormones had me seriously thinking about motherhood and how I behaved as a teenager. This is one of a few attempts to express that to my Mommy Dearest. I love you Mom!)

I am the co-sleeping, attachment parenting, no-spanking mama. Outside of my family, I live for art and writing. I keep journals, baby books, date books...anything to help me help my boys know who we are, where we came from and all that we've survived. My children are my life. I struggle everyday with my relationship with God and trying to end my crisis of faith. I have Fibromyalgia, which is a chronic pain disorder and effects every aspect of my life. I love to write and the act of writing, which I believe is a dying art. I am a cat person. I love my Cleo and I don't care for dogs. That being said, I love my Maggie Sue. I love my friends and family; everything I do is for them. I think; more than I should. I talk; more than most. I'm creative; in almost everything I do.

Today I am...and feeling a little bit...

My Breastfeeding Badges of Honor

Rob, my darling husband is everything I could ever want in a spouse. He's my best friend, a wonderful father to our boys, and a dedicated provider. He would give you the shirt off his back if he thought it would help. The again, he could also sell ice to eskimos if the mood struck him. He runs our construction company and our computer repair business. Then he spends what precious free-time he has learning all he can about electronics and computers. He enjoys creating operating systems for smart phones and sharing them with other smart phone users. He also loves the outdoors, playing video games, playing with the boys, creating slide shows from pictures and videos with music, and hanging out with family. He is one of the most caring and compassionate people I've ever had the joy to know and I love him more than words could ever express. He has sacrificed so very much for our family and we all love him so much. For once, I don't have the words to express it adequately.

Height: 4ft 8.5in Weight: 76.5lb Gavin is my oldest. He's seen more in 10 years than most have seen in a lifetime, only he doesn't have the tools to process any of it. He has Asperger's/high-functioning Autism, OCD, ADHD, Bi-Polar Disorder, PICA, Sensory Integration Disorder and Conduct Disorder. Not to mention that he's prone to psychological breakdowns. He's quick and clever, highly intelligent and incredibly manipulative. He's a blue belt in Karate, loves art class and writing stories, and excells in math and science. He loves his blankets and tries to sleep with more stuffed animals than he has room for in bed. He loves Legos and it's nothing short of amazing the things I've seen him do with them. Gavin's entire world is in his head. Some days he is so lost in his own universe, that we are lucky to get through to him and connect at all. Whereas some days, he seems fine. He interacts with us and seems like every other American boy. Other days we can't seem to do anything right and everything sets him off because he's so sensitive from not being used to "living on the outside". To that end, everyday with Gavin is a challenge and a constant balancing act on the head of a pin. Not a moment goes by that I don't pray for the patience and guidance to help Gavin navigate a society that he is unable to understand. A society that is, for the most part, unwilling or unable to understand him.

Height: 36.9in (34%) Weight: 31lb 12oz (50%) Elliott Richard is our first preemie miracle. Born at 36 weeks gestation, he was practically perfect in everyway except for those pesky lungs. He was born with Premature Lung Disease, which partnered with other complications caused him to spend his first 10 days in the NICU. He's now a happy, healthy 3 year old "terrorist" who refuses to potty train. He's sweet, compassionate, afffectionate and silly. His clear blue eyes and curly hair help him to get away with far more trouble than he should. He loves Lightning McQueen, Hot Wheels cars and asking questions. He's always willing to be a "super helper", unless of course he isn't. He is an amazing big brother and does his best to take good care of both his brothers. Although he's often confused and believes that he is the oldest of the three. He loves pizza, hates jo-jo potatoes, loves tubbies, hates bed time and will ask one question after another after another to try and stay awake. He loves to talk, just like his mother. He is a perfectionist when it comes to certain things and incredibly laid back when it comes to other things - like the state of his room.

Head circ: 48.8cm (75%) Length: 35.25in (98%) Weight: 26lb 1oz (41%) Mr. Emmett John is our moderate to profoundly deaf (they are sure of the exact extent of his hearing loss yet) baby of the family. He's my other preemie miracle, born at 36 weeks after many months of preterm labor. He managed to avoid the NICU only to return to the Peds Unit at 2 months with sleep apnea and then again at 11 months with dehydration. Now he's a year old and one by one slowly over-coming his health issues. He loves to eat! He's got a mischievous grin that he uses for trouble-making and general exploring mayhem. Then he has a beautiful grin that takes up his whole face and crinkles his eyes. He has a very curious personality and a selective sense of humor, which have already started to get him into quite a bit of trouble. There isn't a baby-gate that we've found that can hold him. No barracade that can keep him in (or out for that matter). When he sets his mind to something, look out. He doesn't talk yet but you can tell he's taking everything in, which scares me a little. To say that he is active is an understatement. His favorite toys are Daddy and Maggie Sue. He's picky about his sippy cups. Loves Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs and Penguins of Madagasgar and loud music (so he can feel rather than hear it) - no matter what the tune. What can I say, it's tough being the baby.

Maggie Sue is my beautiful, energetic American Bulldog/Boxer mix. She looks so fierce that her name is a little play on words. We named her Maggie after the children's cartoon "Maggie & the Ferocious Beast". She loves peanut butter, snuggling, playing tug-of-war, doing tricks, her family and especially "her" babies. She loves the boys as if they were her own puppies. She cares for them and is so very careful with them. It's amazing. When they cry, she's right there checking them out. If there is noise outside, she checks it out. No one is harming "her" babies on her watch! She weighs 60lb but seems to believe she's a lap dog. When she decides it's time to snuggle, it's time to snuggle, by force (very gentle force but force nonetheless), if neccessary. As my Fibromyalgia has gotten worse she's become my comfort. Every night she climbs up on the couch next to me and lays half on my lap, very gently. It's almost as if she's trying to absorb my pain and stress; God bless her. She's never turned down a ride in the car - even to go to the vet. At night she isn't content unless she is sleeping on the foot of our bed...under the covers and most of the time entangled in our legs.

♥★Ah, true love★♥

★★My Boys★★

♥♥♥In Memory♥♥♥

If you're 35+yrs old, living in the US and you want to help the Cheerio Family...PLEASE CLICK HERE!!!! That's it, just click the box. Thanks! :-)

Search for:

Follow Along!

Enter your email address to subscribe to my blog and receive notifications of all my new posts by email.